Fallen Ones
by Thief of Always
Summary: Adelle is a true warrior, knowing only the song of clashing metal, the dance of battle, and the taste of blood. Her soul is pure yet her Viking heart belies her darker nature. Driven by revenge, she befriends a lone vampire seeking redemption, but the twists and turns of fate are sharp and cutting. Immortality is but a war between light and the ever consuming darkness GodricxOC
1. Prologue

This is GodricxOC. Assume that the content of this story is rated M for the same reasons the television series is rated mature: blood, sex, coarse language, and the briefest mentions of drugs. D does not claim ownership of True Blood or the Sookie Stackhouse series. Enjoy :)

**Prologue: Adelle Godelieve Ulrikdottir**

_A beautiful woman stands against the blinding light of the sun illuminating an arched doorway. Her tresses are the exact shade of the deepest embers of a pyre. __A simple golden crown, nestled in her fiery locks, catches in the sun, momentarily blinding._

_She pulls the crown down and wraps it around her neck, falling to her knees as the light behind her dies, and everything fades to nothingness in the consuming dark._

* * *

I have lived a thousand lives, and shall live a thousand more.

I've stalk the earth for a millennium as a Godly abomination; a monster whose existence is contradicting. A seemingly normal youth with the hidden macabre thirst of a _vampyr_, and a broken heart that will never stop beating.

I am Adelle of the Sacred Blood, embodiment of light and dark, daughter of the moon and sun, a freak, a godless monster. I can never die.

* * *

I was born as a human some time in the late 10th century in Scandinavia. I had noble _vikingr_ blood; my father was lord of our land, from the eastern cliffs along the sea to the great rushing white river that bordered my father's kingdom. I was the first born, named Adelle Godelieve Ulrikdottir, the only girl in my village with two names. My second name was an honorific, a blessing seceding my first name, a tradition reserved only the royal family.

I was three years the senior of my only sibling, Erik Gunne Ulrikson. Together, Father raised us as Norsemen, instilling fierce loyalty to our village, and trained us as the village's best warriors, despite our age and my gender.

Many men criticized my father for treating me as a son- in my time, men were warriors and laborers, and women tended to the homes, the children and the herds. But my father never saw me as a daughter- I was a weapon, born with strength far superior to even my father as well as many other commodities.

We bathed in luxury- for not only were we the richest in our kingdom, our wealth and power drew the envious eyes of our wealthy neighboring countries. Despite the fierce opposition, my father did not lose a single battle. The key to my father's success was my family's most treasured secret.

It was the secret that guaranteed victory in every war, one that led them to the riches that made the kingdom flourish. Every man, women, and child in our village had full bellies, all necessary provisions and homes.

Along with my gift of strength, I was given the gift of prophecy.

My father used my precognitive visions and dreams to gain victory in battles. He trained my brother Erik for war and succession to the throne, and trained me to protect my brother, and to kill without heed. I knew I was different from the other girls,who wore dresses and listened to their fathers, brothers, and husbands. I wore tunics and breeches and, though I obeyed my father and respected him, I knew part of him was afraid of me. I was a freak.

By the age of thirteen I had killed five men; the first two had been planning an assassination of my father and brother. I heard their whispers from my room and went to investigate the unfamiliar voices in my home in the dead of night. When I found them hovering over Erik's bed as he slumbered, I took immediate action. I slit the closest man's throat, catching his body as he fell; the only sound was a soft gurgling noise and the muffled thump of his knees hitting the floor. The second man was stabbed once through the heart, twice in the stomach. The final three had been guards hired by my father to protect us while he was away at yet another battle. On the night of a powerful storm, the men turned on Erik, mother and I as we ate supper. The first two went down with quick, well-aimed jabs to the jugular with my dinner knife. The last man was by far the strongest, holding me off long enough to escape through the window. I tracked him through the gale into the forest, where I pounded him to death with the brute force of my small fists.

Despite the justification and pride my father fed me, the five lives I had taken weighed heavily on my mind. They haunted my dreams, clouded my head with morbid thoughts that threatened to tear my fragile psyche in two. After the news spread around my village, I was avoided like a sickness.

I did not feel like a protector; I felt like a monster.

Who would take a monster as a wife?

I had seen the women in my village; doomed to unwanted marriages, often abused and ignored by their spouse. I was no naive fool; one day, my father would marry me to a suitor from royal heritage, and I would be just as doomed as the countless unhappy women I had seen.

Seeing my reputation as a means to avoid the prospect of marriage completely, I devoted my every waking moment to training, in the hopes that one day my father would see fit to allow me to join him in battle. Once the allied men of the land had seen me in battle, I reasoned, they would take care not to cross paths with me, much less ask my hand in marriage.

I could wear pants and carry a dagger until the end of my days.

It was no secret that I was the most powerful one in my village; none had seen anyone who could surpass my brute strength, and so my father stood unopposed, his land was prospering.

I was barely fourteen when a strange woman came to my village, dressed in fine clothes, with black markings on her dark skin. Her eyes were colorless, reminding me of the steel blade tucked into the belt holding up my over-sized breeches. I had grabbed the wrong pants from the laundry line outside, and had worn my father's pants all day. It was long past dusk, and I had headed home after a long day in the forest, hunting game to pass the time until my father returned from one of his frequent quests.

The gray-eyed woman, who was conversing with the large pot-bellied sword maker, suddenly turned and looked directly at me. Without looking back at the man, she began walking towards me quickly.

I immediately turned on my heels and began walking swiftly towards my family's large dwelling near the center of the village. I did not turn back, or alert her in any way that I was being followed, though I could sense her overwhelming presence behind me.

I turned a corner, running at full speed in the direction of my house. There was light in the back of the house, indicating that Erik and my mother were already eating supper. I quickened my pace and was several yards away from the door when I sensed it.

I could feel a thin metal dagger flying towards me, and responded immediately by throwing up my dagger and striking it out of the air.

I saw the woman, leaning against my doorway, a smile on her beautiful, yet aged face. Another dagger was dangling from her fingertips.

I sunk into a defensive position, pulling out my broadsword and staring her down, refusing to blink. My lips were pulled back in a semblance of the snarl of a cornered wild animal.

"Ah, good. You know how to fight- that's less for me to teach you." She spoke in a strange accent, mispronouncing the words as if she was unfamiliar with my language and had begun to learn it.

Keeping my guard up, I straightened my posture and met her eyes.

"Why did you follow me?" I asked tensely, feeling intimidated by the tattooed woman with the cold eyes.

She casually placed her small dagger into an untied pouch at her waist, and turned towards me completely, purposefully letting down her guard.

"I am D'liehk, of the desert, and I have been looking for you. I am your big sister; our powers are kin, our souls are forever bound."

* * *

D'liehk spoke to briefly to me, then insisted I brought her inside to my mother, who had been waiting for me inside with a fresh bowl of fish and onion stew.

The woman with the tattoos told a story of a God and his heavenly children, who possessed the ability to travel between the worlds. One of the angels grew jealous when God created the humans and showed them favor. In rebellion, the powerful angel gathered followers and defied God, who then exiled them to a dimension of pure darkness known as Hell. He then gathered as many angels as he could, and sealed off his sacred realm.

There were many angels left on earth, and continued to travel through the realms, though they could no longer return to God. As the world grew older, the angels began to change. They evolved with the world until they were no longer angelic beings, but faeries and nymphs and other beings. Some beings moved to a different world and sealed it off from outsiders to protect themselves. As the once Holy beings began to mate with humans, the blood and power grew weaker and gave birth to many new supernatural species. And thus, God created all humans and the Angels created all supernatural beings.

After several millenniums, there were only scores of the original angels left, as they could never die nor reproduce in their true forms. They remained faithful to God, living in peace with the humans but never revealing their true nature or interbreeding- hoping one day, their Lord would open heaven again and grant them entry. God, taking pity on his devout servants, took their immortal souls from their bodies and put them in the bodies of newborn children.

They lived their lives as humans, not remembering their time as Angels. When their bodies would wither and die, their immortal souls would be reborn into new bodies.

The souls of the angels held such undiluted power that even in weaker bodies, they could still access their powers, and were more powerful, smarter, and faster that other humans.

And so, D'liehk told me that I had limited powers now, and in order for me to be my strongest, I must remember my true name. The name God gave me when He created my angelic soul.

"We each have a special power, hidden within us. God allowed us limited powers as humans to help defend ourselves against enemies, for our holy power attracted otherworldly beings who thirsted for it. But with our true name comes transcendence; we have the ability to travel dimensions, along with incredible strength and power. Erika," D'liehk took my mother's hands gently, "I request your permission to take your daughter across the sea to live with others like us, to strengthen herself and awaken her hidden power."

The whole idea of their being a single God was absurd to me; I had grown up to ballads and songs about our many Gods and he stories of our creation. Unlike most of the villagers, I wasn't as naïve. There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of different religions; different peoples worshiped different gods.

My mother pulled her hands away, wringing them in her apron in anxiety. Her belly protruded from her hips slightly, she was carrying anther child, though she took no joy from it. Since she had given birth to Erik, she had birthed five dead babies. She cried often and ate strange herbs that the village healers had given her. She stood up abruptly,her hand still on her swollen stomach.

"Adelle and I must talk in privacy first. If you do not mind, you may take a seat in the lounge down the hall." It was clearly a dismissal, although polite, but I could sense that my mother was holding back some aggression.

D'liehk nodded her head once, like a short informal bow, and began walking with elegant and precisely placed steps down the corridor. Mother seated herself once again, her fingers twisting in her apron.

"I always knew you were different," She spoke up after a short time of melancholy silence, "_Special._ When I gave birth to you, you did not cry, you just whimpered softly. I was in so much pain, but my body stopped hurting when your father placed you in my arms. And you made this choking sound, like a laugh. You have power most men dream of, but this life, this cold life of a warrior was not meant for you."

Her fingers stopped as she reached across the old wooden table and grasped my hands tightly.

"I knew this day would come, when I would have to let go of you. You have extraordinary gifts, you have the power to escape this life. You do not have to be a warrior to serve this kingdom; you can be a protector."

Although the men of my village despised my father for raising me as a man, as a merciless warrior, nobody opposed it as much as my mother. She wanted me to launder the clothes with the other women, to weave baskets and prepare food. She wanted me to take a husband and have many children and live a life of peace. But my father needed has no use for me as a woman: I was the sharp blade he used to cut down his enemies.

"What do I do?" I asked softly, feeling torn between my mother and the woman sitting on a couch in the other room. A series of images flashed through my mind, five faces frozen in horror. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat.

Mother smiled, bringing my hands to her lips. She placed a soft kiss on my knuckles and let them go. My hands fell into my lap limply.

"What do you want to do?"

* * *

It was settled that I was leaving in the morning. D'liehk slept in one of our spare rooms while mother retired to her room. I went to my room and packed everything I wanted to take with me. Once I was finished, I quietly slipped into Erik's room next to mine.

I saw his young round face illuminated in the candlelight, his eyes widened as they adjusted from the darkness. When he realized it was me in the doorway, he frowned.

"Leave." He said flatly, rolling over so his back was to me. He was apparently awake.

Taken aback, I ignored his request and closed the door, then took a seat on his bed.

"Why would you say such a thing?" I asked, not disguising the hurt in my voice.

All my life, I did as I was told. I never spoke out against mother and father and never complained. Even if I was wounded, tired, or frustrated, I would hide it all behind the mask I wore. I only took off that mask when I was with my little brother. I told him everything, and he did the same. Despite our age difference, we were very close and at times, inseparable.

I felt a slightly painful tug in my chest at Erik's words of rejection.

He said nothing in reply, but after a long and uncomfortable silence, he rolled back over, his stomach resting against my side, his face turned up and peering hesitantly at me through the dim room.

"I saw that_ woman,_" He spat the words harshly, "And I heard everything. Are you really just going to leave? What about our training?"

He was so young, as was I, so how could I justify this and tell him why, when I was too young to understand it all as well?

"Yes, I am," I whispered, nudging him over to make room for me to lay down. He moved over compliantly.

"I have to go get stronger, so when I come back I can take care of mother, you, and our little brother or sister while father is gone."

Erik snorted, turning his back to me and settling himself into the warm blankets.

"Mother is too old to have any more children. It is just us, it will always be just us, Adelle." His voice was thick with sleep.

I frowned to myself, but whispered, "Pray anyways, Erik."

In the morning I was leaving mother and Erik and everything I knew. I had a small hope, that my unborn sibling would be healthy and live a good life, and keep mother and Erik company and bring them joy while I was away on my journey.

* * *

Erik was still asleep when I woke up the following morning to a soft tapping sound coming from the door. I slid from the low bed as quietly as I could, trying not to disturb my younger brother's rest. I leaned over him, placing a kiss in his hair softly before exiting the room. D'liehk was waiting for me in the dim pre-dawn darkness of the hallway.

I went to my room an fetched my bag, surveying my room one more time to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything, and then a final look to commit it to memory.

My mother was in the kitchen, with a feast of fresh, delicious smelling foods spread out across the table. She wore a bright smile, but the sadness in her eyes told the truth for her.

She began speaking quickly and erratically about how she couldn't sleep and had been cooking food for us to take with us.

Sensing her distress, I began to take a step towards her, only to be blocked by D'liehk's arm. She pushed me back and gave me a warning look.

She walked to my mother and grasped both sides of her face, placing a friendly kiss on her cheeks.

"Erika Pederdottir, mother of Adelle Godelieve, you will forget my name." My mother stood staring transfixed, her mouth slightly ajar.

D'liehk, not breaking eye contact, continued speaking, "I am a traveling priestess of Odin, and sought out your daughter to run my temple. She has been blessed with her powers by the mighty viking God. You know nothing of the angels or the tale I told you last night. Adelle will travel with me to the heart of this land where we will reside, but she will return home to visit you soon. You are happy she is going to the temple, and wholeheartedly agree with her decision to leave."

My mother nodded her head enthusiastically, turning to me and throwing her arms around me in a hug. Tears of joy were escaping her bright green eyes.

"Have a safe trip, lamb. I am so proud of you and the honor you will bring our kingdom!" Her smile never faltered.

I looked at the woman I would be traveling with in disbelief.

"What did you do to her?" I asked accusingly.

"I eased her doubts and worries, and covered my ass. She will not remember the conversation we had last night. We cannot ever allow humans to know of our existence."

I found myself wondering about Erik, and of how he told me he heard everything, though I said nothing. After we packed food we headed for the door, and I caught sight of Erik peeking at me from behind his door. I raised my fingers to my lips in an indication to be quiet. He grinned at me and gave a salute. I smiled back and silently mouthed 'be brave' at him before heading out of the door and into my new life.

_A life as a protector..._


	2. Protector

Note: I am intentionally misspelling my favorite viking vamp's name. Later on in the story, I will change the spelling back to _Eric_, but for now, I am using the Norse spelling, _Erik_. Also, my excuse for my rather infrequent updating: I'm in college. And I'm lazy. So don't expect frequent updates :P

Yeah, that's all I've got.

* * *

**One: **

I pulled the fur hood tighter around my face, burying my frozen fingers in the thick bear fur. I stood atop a snow-covered hill, surveying the valley below me. Wind, snow, and exhaustion blurred my vision, but I easily spotted a large overhang in the white-washed bluffs. I signaled to my companions, a petite girl named Illean and a broad-shouldered woman named Raz. We descended the hill quickly, and wasted no time blocking off the wind and starting a fire. Raz knelt down in the middle of the overhang, removed her thick gloves, and placed her palms upon the ground. She began to murmur softly, and after several moments, she raised her hands. Where her hands lay on the frozen terrain, there stood a small hickory sapling protruding from the snow. Her hands glowed a golden shimmery hue, which extended from her fingertips and surrounded the plant in front of her.

Behind me, Illean was conjuring a shield to keep the wind from entering our campsite.

I shouldered off my pack, letting it fall to the snow at my feet. Crouching down, I shoved my numb hands deep in the snow and closed my eyes. I could feel the energy pulsing in my body, like lightening in my veins. I felt the heat radiate from my core, shooting straight to my fingertips, banishing the cold from my weary limbs. I pushed the white-hot energy from my body to the soil, feeling the snow immediately melt and the water dry almost instantaneously.

I opened my eyes and withdrew my hands from the now dry and warm dirt. Illean and Raz were both feeding the tree their energy, willing it to grow.

It struck me then how unusual this sight should be to me. Not even three years ago, if I had seen such a sight, I would undoubtedly be frightened. But I had changed since then- living in isolation with magical beings had made my life before seem somehow dull and tedious. Why gather firewood on your own when you could grow a tree to chop down?

Of course, it was not as easy as it sounded. After the long trek through the snowy mountains, even the small bit of energy I used had worn me out.

I knelt down next to my two traveling companions, adding my own bright red power to the swirl of gold and indigo surrounding the rapidly growing tree.

I centered my energy, evened out my breathing, and envisioned the view from the cliffs bordering my village: roiling sea-green waters, spanning out in front of me. The waves were tinged with deep red and orange akin the dying embers of a fire. Just above the horizon line, the sky burned the brightest scarlet, and faded to a bruised purple, and then the dark blue of the encroaching night.

It had been three long and weary years since I had been home.

My soul yearned for the salty stench of the ocean, the smell of cooking fish and the acrid smoke of burning driftwood. I dreamed often of the tall bluffs along the ocean, and of the thick forest that stretched as far as the horizon on either side. My lonely heart longed for my family- I hadn't spoke with them since the day I left, and I desperately missed them.

I had been living somewhere far south of my home in Scandinavia, across hundreds of miles of land and sea in the heart of a large, sprawling forest that extended for hundreds of miles in every direction.

There were twenty-six of us all together, both men and women, as well as a few children. We lived in tops of hollowed out trees, all interconnected with a complicated network of ropes, ladders and bridges. Far from the ground, our village was hidden by the thick foliage of the tall trees. We lived in our own separate world, untouched by violence, hatred and fear.

There was such a wide assortment of people- very few shared the same native tongue. Each person went through different training, depending on their age and the role in our society they had been given. We were allowed to chose our roles, and since I was a prized Viking warrior I refused to be a healer or a babysitter, and instead became a huntsmen. Our first task was to learn the _ancient language_. It was timeless, and had no name. It was said to be the the language of the angels, and no lie could ever be spoken in the tongue. When D'liehk spoke, it sounded as if she was singing. It was light and lilting and fast paced, and though I couldn't comprehend what she was saying, I could sense the magic and mysterious power to the words.

D'liehk was the second-in-command, as she was the second oldest. I was shocked at first that the men didn't protest to a woman being in charge of them, but I soon came to learn that they didn't discriminate by race, religion, gender, or color. It was truly a utopia, albeit small and secluded.

Our leader was a wise, soft-spoken man with dark, wrinkled skin by the name of Orron. He had lost his sight to age, but his mind was sound and full of knowledge.

D'liehk and I arrived at the treetop village at the same time as two brown broad-shouldered men and a rather terrified looking young girl, whose name was I later learned was Illean. She was as new to this strange place as I was.

Illean had been raised in poverty in a castle town in what is now Italy, and had no formal training in combat. We became close friends, learning the ancient tongue as common ground and then taught ourselves each other's native language. Together we trained under the watchful eye of D'liehk, who was our mentor.

Every man, woman, and child in our village were taught the origin of our kind, the secrets ingrained in our history, and of our powers and abilities. We learned both great and terrible things about our kind, as well as the other much younger beings that wandered the earth.

Illean and I were trained for defense and hunting, but D'liehk told us we would rarely use our skill in the village, as we were so deep in the forest that we would only encounter beasts. Every day we hunted with the three other men who were likewise trained. While we hunted, the others prepared the metal fire pits, some gathering herbs, vegetables and fruits, while others fetched water.

Appealing to my Viking nature, I became the best hunter out of our group- It was the closest I could get to battle while living with such peaceful beings.

A part of me craved the rush of frenzied adrenaline from combat, the satisfaction of decimation. I had never been to war before, and living in the sleepy solitude of the treetops with the beings of light had only intensified my itch for conflict.

There was no mistaking my Viking blood.

Even as I crouched underneath the sheltered overhang of the snowy cliffs, I could feel hot impatience rising in my gut.

We had been traveling for three hard, weary weeks. How much longer would I have to wait to see my beloved homeland? Would Erik even remember me? Had our village suffered from the lack of my presence?

The tree had grown so tall that the tall branches made a horrible screeching noise against the cold stone wall surrounding it.

Withdrawing our hands, and with them our energy, we took only a moment to assess the aged tree in front of us. Raz pulled my sword jerkily from my leather sheath, and touched her lips to the flat of the blade, whispering a few soft words in our sacred language.

The weapon glowed with a brilliant flash of blue, first surrounding the metal before seeping into the sword and fading. _A sharpening spell._

Suddenly, the lithe middle-aged woman drew the sword upwards, and brought it down with enough force to sever four thick branches. Ridding the tree of all appendages, Raz adjusted the angle, and began to use my sword as an axe to bring down the three foot thick trunk.

I winced as the blade stuck half way through the trunk. Despite the fact that I knew Raz was a proficient healer and spellcaster, I feared for the condition of my most prized possession as she ruthlessly cut the down the magically grown tree._  
_

Once a fire was started and we had cooked and eaten our late meal, I retired to my designated corner to rest.

Surrounded in my thick bearskin blankets, I allowed my coiled muscles to stretch, willing my stress-weary body to relax. As I drifted into the darkness, one final thought fluttered through my mind like a falling feather, weightless and floating, lulling me into a deep sleep filled with memories of my home by the sea.

_I am finally going home._


End file.
